Heir to the Throne
by Ishvallan
Summary: About 25 years have passed. It is a new era at Bullworth, but it is no different than any other school in the country even if it appears to be. The peaceful era's come and go as students emerge to control the behavior of their classmates, and problems resurface once those leaders leave, power vacuums and wannabe's rising shortly after.
1. Chapter 1: New Year, New School

It was the last straw. 4 schools in 3 years. As much as his parents loved Brandon, his outbursts just couldn't keep going on like this. Public schools had formed many anti bullying policies in the past few years, and they would not allow a child to go around beating up teachers and students. It didn't seem to matter that the ones on the receiving end were the bullies. It didn't matter that after the matters came into the open that faculty members were fired with charges pressed for harassing their students. Two wrongs did not make a right. It is unacceptable to assault someone even if they are harassing or assaulting someone else. Self defense was one thing, but he needed to find more constructive ways to manage his anger and to help others, violence wasn't the answer even if it proved a consistently effective solution.

His parents enrolled him in Bullworth Academy, a private reform school well known for its history of taking problem children and putting them on a path to success. Though the school's reputation and direction had changed since Dr. Crabblesnitch retired and handed down his title to a former head boy of the school, Dr. Peter Kowalski. There were no formal programs of therapy, psychology, or behavior modification, but something about the school set kids straight and made them into cooperative and respectful members of society. This would hopefully be exactly what Brandon needed to calm his violent tendencies.

So there he stood. 15 years old, short, skinny, dark hair shaved almost to the scalp, a plain grey hoodie over his Bullworth blue uniform vest, white shirt underneath, and the common khaki pants all the male students wore. He stood at the gates for his first day moving in and was greeted at the gate by Dr. Kowalski.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Grinder, and this must be Brandon. I'm Dr. Kowalski, headmaster here at Bullworth." He shook hands with both gentlemen in front of him. He expected the same resistance that nearly every new student sent there for behavioral reasons gave, but was surprised with a respectful and firm handshake from the young man.

"Glad to see you have at least some semblance of enthusiasm to be here. We don't get that often with new transfers, its a good sign. Anyway, Mr. Grinder, if you'd just follow me, I'll show you where you can drop off all of Brandon's belongings. Follow me, please."

Pete Kowalski walked forward a few strides and turned to the right towards the Hopkins Boys Dormitory. The campus was abuzz with activity as it was move in day for the returning students who didn't live on campus year round. Most of the students seemed to be greeting their old friends after the long summer away while their parents carried personal belongings from cars to dorms.

Pete opened the door of the dorm and took an immediate hooking right into the first room.

"This will be your dorm. Namesake of this dorm spent most of his years here, at least when he actually slept here. Kind of a troublemaker, and not the same reason as you, Brandon. I've actually been intrigued by your record, you seem like a good kid, we just need to point you in some right directions. I think you'll do just fine here. Just keep your nose clean, as my predecessor used to say. Wouldn't want to have to clean it for you."

The Grinders looked at the headmaster awkwardly imagining the man holding a tissue to Brandon's nose.

"Ah, yeah, well, anyway, business to get to, more new students to greet. Thanks for choosing Bullworth. If you make your way up to the class building, we have some fliers up if you want to join any clubs or teams. Have a nice day sir," shaking Mr. Grinder's hand, "and you have a good semester here. Hopefully I don't have to have you in my office for anything but commendations." He shook Brandon's hand again and walked quickly out of the dorm.

"He seems...friendly," Brandon's dad told him starting to unpack some bags.

"I'll bet he was a weeney as a kid."

"Don't say things like that, you know better than to talk about people that way, and I know you're not kind of person."

"Dad if you knew what kind of person I was you wouldn't be sending me to boarding school, you'd just let me keep going to public school."

"Son, its not that we think you're a bad kid, you just have to learn how to control your actions. We're not saying that you were wrong challenging all those bad kids and teachers, we're saying you need to use your words and your brain, not your fists. I know you'll thank us once you really learn how to help others."

Once all the bags were unpacked, his bed was made, and his dad said his goodbyes, he left Brandon at the school and went home. Brandon had nothing better to do and didn't know anyone so he headed for the large central building of campus.


	2. Chapter 1: Getting your bearings

Brandon walked the short distance to the campus and noticed a few things along the way:

Across from his dormitory stood the girls' dorms. Adults in blue blazers walked around with badges on their chest looking like some kind of security or police. A large building to his left he assumed was another class building or a library, and a garage of some kind with a parking lot to the left. He walked up the stairs and into the main building.

Inside to both sides were bulletin boards surrounded by students writing on various sheets. He joined a group to the left and saw signups for Astronomy Club, Glee Club, Debate Team, Mechanics Club, Spirit Squad, and Drama Club. Walking to the other side he saw sheets for Boys and Girls Football, Soccer, Basketball, Wrestling, Boxing, Weightlifting, and Cross Country, and something called Foam Fighting.

Being more inclined to athletics than matters of the mind, he put his name down for Boxing one one wall and Mechanics club on the other hoping it had something to do with cars. No one seemed to give him any notice or make effort to talk to him, so he went back out the door he came and took a walk around campus. He started to his left towards the large building he saw near his own dorm and saw it mostly barren of students outside, and saw it was the Library. He kept going around the main central building and saw a path towards a statue of a bull in a fountain. Nearing that, he saw a rear entrance to the garage building, and another smaller building to his left labeled Harrington House. Passing the fountain seemed to lead him to the gym and the athletic field, nothing of much note for a school campus except that Harrington House.

He walked over the the building and saw a few older students outside in crisp white dress shirts with light blue patterned sweater vests on. They simply looked at him and he felt unwelcome, turning around and walking the other way. Near the gym he saw the typical jock types in Bullworth sports jerseys and letter jackets. He decided to check out the garage and found that it was actually multiple buildings. Looking around he noticed most of them were closed and locked but they were labeled Transportation Technology Shop, Wood Shop, and Metal Shop. There didn't seem to be any students around but there was an adult in a leather jacket and jeans who spotted him and called over.

"Hey, you look like you're new. Name's Mr. Romano, but just call me Peanut since I ain't stuck in the teacher duds. I teach auto and metal shop here." The man sounded like he had a somewhat high pitched Brooklyn accent. He just sounded like the kind of guy you didn't want to mess with even if he wasn't very tall.

"Hi, um, my name's Brandon. Yeah I'm new here, just getting lay of the land I guess. The garage kind of caught my eye."

"Thinking of signing up for my Mechanic's Club? Cars, bikes, go carts, skateboards. If it goes on wheels, we teach you to work on 'em. Even allowed to make a bit of money at it if you're good enough to do actual repairs for people."

"That actually sounds pretty cool. Yeah I signed up for it in the big building over there. I hoped it was cars. Not really a lot in there that sounded interesting."

"Really? Most boys your age jump at football, wrestling, and Boxing. Especially kids who get sent here, lots have some, let's just say behavioral issues and they like to get their hands on someone and not get in trouble."

"I signed up for boxing too. I don't know if it's really my thing though. Mom and dad want me to stop using my fists to solve my problems."

"Ah, kids like that are a dime a dozen around here. Oughta listen to your mom and dad on that, no good comes from jumpin' into a scrap if you got other choices. But boxing's different. It's a healthy outlet, just gotta keep your temper. Its not about beatin' people up, it's about learning to protect yourself if you do get in a scrap. Learn you ain't made of glass too, but we got plenty of sports for that. You see about that foam fightin' thing?"

"Oh, yeah, what is that?"

"Really hard to explain. Got started by the nerds way back in the day not long after I graduated from here. Started out a bunch of the wimpy kids smacking each other with sticks with foam on it. But now, woo, those kids can flatten you and beat you til you cry for mercy. Not everyone's thing but well worth a look."

"Thanks for the tip I guess. Hey, what's that Harrington House over there? Kids there didn't seem too friendly."

"Oh, yeah, them kids. Private dorm for the area's more 'affluent society'." Mr. Romano used his fingers for heavy air quotes. "We used to call em preps, don't really know what kids call em these days when they aint just swearing about em. Not all bad kids really, if you get on their good side they're probably good to have there. But if you're not one of them, they think you're a nobody. Me and mine really didn't get on too well with those types but I knew a guy as a kid who helped us all get over lots of our problems. Still in the area, never know, you might meet him, works as a cop in town. Just hope you don't meet him the same way he met local fuzz." Peanut laughed remembering the hooligan from his youth.

"I'm not quite like that. I just give people what's coming to them. Beat up a few teachers and kids who were pushing around other kids. Someone's gotta stand up for the little guy, right?"

"They sure do, but we got rules. Can't go beatin' people up just cause you don't like what they're doing. We might not like it but that's life. Just gotta find a better way that doesn't get you in trouble. Believe me, I know, lost some good friends to prison cause they couldn't learn to put their hands down and their mouths shut. Hope you don't end up like them, kid, you seem a little smarter than we were."

"Thanks. I'll try, sir, don't really want to get kicked out and make my parents mad again. I just don't like seeing people getting picked on."

"Me neither, kid. I don't know, something about this school fixes kids. Not saying you're messed up or anything, and not saying we don't got problems. All about the right kids deciding to do the right things. Only so much we teachers can do with kids doing everything behind our backs. Do us all a favor, keep an eye out. If you care about the little guy as much as you say, don't be too proud to get a teacher or one of the Prefects, you've probably seen em, blue jackets with gold badges. Kind of rule enforcers around campus."

"I'll keep that in mind. I think I'm gonna keep looking around, but it's good to know at least one teacher here gets it. I guess I'll see you whenever that mechanic club starts up." Brandon turned to walk back towards the statue.

"Was good talkin' to you, what you say your name was? Bannon or something?"

"Brandon, Brandon Grinder."

"I'll try to remember that. New guy, probably still need to make some friends. Don't be afraid to try out something new. And like old man Crabblesnitch always said, keep a clean nose, don't want ol' Peanut to have to clean it for you."

There's that nose thing again, Brandon thought. Really don't think I want to know what they mean. Then he caught the sounds of what sounded like shouting and being hit. He followed the sound running over to the sports field just in case he needed to help someone out.


	3. Chapter 1: Keep your nose clean

Coming to the edge of the walkway where he could see the field, Brandon did not see what he expected. Kids were definitely getting beaten up, but not how he thought. Out on the field were about 30 other kids- some in matching outfits, some looking like it was halloween come early, but they all had what looked like weapons.

They were formed up into about 4 uneven teams, 1 big group of about 12, and a few smaller groups of around 5-8. The bigger group defintiely seemed to have the upper hand, all wearing blue and gold outfits with names on the back. Some looked like they had shields, others had long poles, even 2 archers in the back. He remembered kids like this who got made fun of, but if the kids at his old school had seen this they'd have kept their mouths shut.

One of the players in blue holding a shield rushed around an outside angle and crashed into 2 players in a smaller group and sent them flying before he ran through and smacked the other 3 of the group a few times each enough that he could hear the hits from 50 feet away. Then he ran back and joined his team who were cleaning up the rest of the field. After the large team cleared the field and everyone else sat on the ground with their toys on their heads for some reason, Brandon heard a whistle blow. The players in blue reached down and helped the others up off the ground and seemed to be teaching the others on their way over to another adult, a taller but slightly heavy man wearing a strange red and black shirt, pants, and black unglasses.

Brandon walked down the stairs and walked over to see what was going on.

"Alright, good round kids. Not bad. A lot of you are showing a lot of promise, but remember, doesn't matter how good you are. Long as you're all having fun, good will come with time. And if it doesn't, who cares, you're having more fun than the kids sitting around doing nothing. Any questions?"

"Coach Devaryn, what do we do when we get flanked like that?"

"Leg him usually. Stop him from running. If you think you can do it, post up and knock him down when he comes in. Almost always easier to beat a guy on the ground than on his feet."

"Will we be having drill practice again this year?"

"For those who really want to skill build, yes. For those who just want to come out and have a good time, not mandatory as always."

Brandon got up and walked back up the stairs. Probably not his thing to try, but it looked like something he could watch.

He walked back past the large man-bull statue in the fountain and headed to the right back towards the library. Still deserted outside, he saw the door was open and there were people inside so he went in to see what it was like. Mostly kids were at the tables playing what looked like the same card game, a few playing board games together, and more in the corner just talking and laughing. He walked over to a table that seemed to be setting up a game he knew and asked to join and was warmly welcomed. He introduced himself and hoped he would remember a few names.

After a few hours, the library closed and all of the students returned to their dorms. A few of the boys invited him to hang out in the common area but he wanted to get some shut eye before the first day of class in the morning. Even if he didn't care about his grades much, he liked to be thought well of by his teachers, he didn't need them thinking he was the same kind of troublemaker this school was apparently accustomed to.

He closed his door, spent some time talking to old friends on his laptop, and turned in for the night.

His alarm woke him in the morning and he had to compete with every other boy in the dorm for time in the shower. Things went peacefully until he went to the sink to brush his teeth. Some older boys walked up behind the boy at the sink next to him and yanked his pants down. The kid paniced, spat out his toothbrush, and grabbed for his pajama bottoms. Brandon did what he always did and grabbed the closest of the boys by the shirt and pushed him up against the toilet stalls.

"What did you do that for, what did he do to you?" Brandon yelled at the much taller and older boy.

"What's it to you kid? Who are you anyway?"

"Kid who's gonna stuff you in the trash can if you don't apologize to this guy and get out of here."

The taller boy pushed Brandon back.

"That's not how things work around here, punk. It's just a bunch of guys having fun, nothing to get your panties in a knot about. You're probably new here, just don't stick your nose in other people's business and don't start a fight you're not ready to finish."

"Oh I'll SHOW you a fight" Brandon lurched forward but the older boy side stepped and Brandon crashed through the locked stall and found himself face first in the lap of another boy who reasonably freaked out and kicked Brandon onto the ground. The older boys laughed and walked out.

The boy who had stood next to him offered a hand to help Brandon up.

"Hey man, thanks for sticking up for me, but uh, don't, please. The jerks at this school don't do too well with being challenged. I'm gonna get it worse later and you probably are too."

"Sorry, just trying to help out. I don't do well with jerks pushing others around."

"I take it you're new. Just keep your head low, your nose clean, and don't cause more problems than they make for you."

"That doesn't work for me. And what is with the nose thing? Does everyone here say that?"

"Yeah, it's kind of like a school motto. Keep your nose clean or we'll clean it for you. Kind of has a double meaning, teachers mean behave or they'll put you in work detention until you respect the rules. Kids mean mind your business or they'll give you a good reason to do so. Place really started going downhill three or four years ago. Had a senior who kind of ruled this place, people didn't start problems because he was friends with everyone and you didn't mess with his friends, even if you were his friend. But he graduated and now people pull stuff like that like they're trying to become king of the school or something. Acts of dominance or whatever. Really wish things would go back to when Kowalski's kid was still here. That guy had a thing for keeping everyone else in line."

"Wait, Kowalski's? Like the headmaster's kid?" Brandon asked grabbing his shower and grooming kit from the sink he'd been at.

"Yeah, Jimmy Kowalski. Had his hands in everything, boxing, drama club, mechanics club. One of those guys who just seems to be good at everything. Kind of a power void now that he's not here keeping the drama down."

"Well, I'm no king of the school, but I don't let people like those guys run things their way."

"You talk a big game, but lets face it, you're half their size and if that rush is anything to show for how you fight, you're just gonna keep embarrassing yourself and the people you stick up for."

"So I'm just supposed to let kids bully each other? I thought this place straightened kids out."

"It used to, but that's back when Jimmy was here. For like five years he had this place under his thumb. Now it's dog eat dog. Keep your nose clean, or someone will clean it for you. Make a few friends, don't make waves, and get out without making your time worse than it needs to be."

"So you're telling me that I got sent here because one kid kept everyone in line and the school used that to advertise that it fixed problem kids?"

"I don't know, I just go here cause I live in town, never seen a brochure."

"That's just great. Thought maybe I was gonna learn something here. Or at least be somewhere that I didn't have to deal with the idiots picking on other kids so I wouldn't have to make waves. But I'm not just gonna put my tail between my legs, that's not me. I'm better than that."

"Whatever you say kid, you'll learn. Just don't make my life any worse while you dig yourself a grave." The other student packed his stuff and left ahead of Brandon. The bell rang that classes would be starting soon so he got ready in his room and headed for his first class on his schedule- Chemistry.


	4. Chapter 1: First Day

The bell rang shortly after he seated himself in the Chemistry Lab and the woman teacher walked in and wrote "Dr. Trudeau" on the board and started into her pre semester grading criteria and syllabus. Brandon paid half attention, and half looked around the room for anyone he had met. He saw a few kids he had played games with the day before, but couldn't remember any names. He hadn't noticed his head wandering until a chalkboard eraser came flying his way and hit off the desk in front of him.

"Eyes front, this is chemistry, not art. Wandering eyes put you in the hospital in here. I expect you to pay attention or just don't show up and feel free to fail."

She had his attention now. She continued on with her lecture and started them on a simple experiment. What should have been a simple mixture turning a few cool colors ended in a puff of smoke for him as he put in too much of a powder. After class, his teacher took him aside and said that she hoped he would be more careful in the future, today it was just a smoke cloud, next class could be a burn if he wasn't careful and it wasn't her job to stop him from learning important life lessons about safety.

Brandon left the class and headed for his locker. From a few spaces over, he heard a knocking and someone said "Is anyone out there?" from inside it.

"Yeah how'd you get in there? Hey whats the combination to this?"

"Someone stuffed me in. New locker so I don't really know the combination yet, its too dark in here even if I had the paper I wrote it on. Just go upstairs to the office, they'll have all the combinations."

Brandon ran upstairs to the office and saw Dr. Kowalski behind the desk.

"Dr. Kowalski, I need your help, some kid is locked in a locker downstairs."

"What number is it? I'll get the combination. Do you know who did it?"

"2 lockers down from mine, 278 I think. The guy inside didn't say who did it."

Pete found the combination sheet in the file cabinet and went down with Brandon only to find no one in the locker in question.

"Brandon, so far I have no reason to believe you would lie to me, especially on your first day, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you were telling the truth. I know your file, you aren't the type to call false alarms. If you find out what happened, come tell me. There is nothing wrong with people getting what is coming to them as long as you do it the right way. Your next class should be starting soon, so you better be on your way."

Brandon had little to say. He knew he was telling the truth, luckily Dr. Kowalski seemed to believe him. But he noticed that even the headmaster knew that the direction of the school had taken a turn for the worse. He headed for his next class, English, right around the corner.

His English teacher was...intimidating. In big sloppy letters the mountain of a man wrote "Russell Northrop". As he spoke it seemed like he had a speech impediment of some kind, and that English was not really his thing.

"Just call me Russell," he said slowly. "I'm here to teach you guys to read and write good. Better than me. Petey says I'm what happens when you don't read or write good, so you need to learn. Better to learn from someone who knows what it's like to have problems with English than from someone who acts like you're not good at it. I want all of you to be good at it. We're gonna read my favorite book first. It's about a guy like me who wasn't so smart, but at least he got smart for a while."

He passed out the books, _Flowers For Algernon_.

"You guys read at whatever pace you want. It's a short book and not too hard. We're gonna talk about each chapter so you'll want to read at least one each night, but you can read more I guess. I don't need you guys here to read, so you can stay here if you want, or you can go somewhere else and read your books. I'll be up here if you need me."

The goliath sat at his desk in a steel chair specially bought clearly to hold someone with the muscle mass of a gorilla. Brandon and several other students left the classroom, but unlike most of the students who just put their books in their lockers and left the school building, he took his book with him and sat outside in back of the school on the steps near the fountain.

Shortly after, he heard a call over the public address system.

"Brandon Grinder to the office, Brandon Grinder to the office."

What? He hadn't done anything wrong. He was just sitting here actually doing his class work. Better to get it over with than to make himself look guilty. He picked up his bag, put his book in it, and headed back to the headmaster's office.

As he came to the top of the stairs, Dr. Kowalski waved him to come back into his office.

"What is this about, sir? I didn't do anything wrong. Mr. Northrop told us we didn't have to stay in class to do our work."

"It's about the locker incident earlier. The student, who I won't name for his well being, says that you're the one who put him in there."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the one who tried to help him. Why is he blaming me?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Grinder, I'm still on your side for now. There is no reason you would be the one to report someone being put in a locker if you're the one who did it. I think he is covering up for someone, but I have no idea why someone would protect an attacker."

"He's probably just trying to keep his nose clean."

"This isn't the way to do it. And we know how you students use the phrase. If he were keeping it clean, he would have stayed quiet about the whole thing. He wouldn't tell on the person who did it, or blame someone else who might retaliate. It doesn't make sense. But I'm sure you understand that this is twice today you've caught my attention. Try not to make a habit out of it. You're dismissed. Keep your nose clean but keep your ears open. I would say someone has it out for you."


	5. Chapter 1: Squeaky Wheels Get the Grease

Brandon left the office with more questions than answers. He had no idea who had been in that locker, how they got out, who put them in there, and why the victim had named him as the attacker. The best question of all, how did anyone even know his name to place the blame? He couldn't recall giving his name to anyone. One, yesterday, but no way. There is no way that Mr. Romano would set him up. What is there for a teacher to gain? But someone here knew who he was, and Dr. Kowalski was right- they seemed to have something out for him.

Speaking of Mr. Romano, it was the first night of Mechanics Club. He made his way over to the garages where he had met the shop teacher the day before. There were a few students outside the auto shop class garage, fewer than he expected for something that sounded so cool. He sat up against a wall without speaking to anyone, reading his book for English. Mr. Romano opened the garage door and everyone made their way in and grouped up around the work tables. Brandon knew no one and just leaned against a wall instead of sitting with anyone.

"Welcome to Mechanic's Club everyone, glad to see mostly familiar faces. For you new students or first timers, I'm Mr. Romano, everyone around here just calls me Peanut while we're here at the club. Outside the club its still Mr. Romano or Mr. R. We clear on that? Kowalski gets mad at teachers using their nicknames but I am who I am. Anyway, here's a sign in sheet, everyone write down your name so we know whose parents to call if someone loses a finger or gets a foot crushed by an engine block."

A few of the older students laughed, one even gave a student next to him a punch in the arm to which the target said "It was one time, and you didn't secure the lift, Terry!" punching his friend back.

"Exactly, one time is all it takes. You all need to learn to pay attention in this club if you wanna keep all your digits. Same as last year, we're starting out with simple skate boards, but in two weeks we start bikes, moving on to go-carts, and we should have everyone doing cars by end of the year. Unfortunately we can't let students have their own vehicles because of one particular student a long time back, not even bikes or skateboards. BUT there are plenty of people in town who have them and will be stopping in from time to time for repairs. I'll have a list of club members who show aptitude for fixing things and you'll have a chance to do the job. Do it good and we'll let you get paid. Screw it up, you're off the list. We have a reputation here for quality. Kids learn skills in these garages they'll use their whole life, even if you don't want it to be a job. Any questions before I bring out the first projects?"

"Where do babies come from?" One of the oldest looking boys asked.

"Not something you'll ever have to worry about if you don't show the ladies you're more mature than that."

A collective "Ohhhhhhh" rose up from the students. Peanut pulled out a few cheap skateboards and placed them on the work benches. Missing wheels, bent axles, broken decks. Up front was a collection of replacement parts.

"Ok, most of you know the drill. Get to work. Newer people, ask questions to your club mates. Get to know each other. Work as a team to figure out problems and fix em. If your group can't figure out a fix, come see me. Don't eat the bearings or grease and have fun."

Brandon hadn't chosen a bench and everyone was already at work. He felt like a runt piglet who couldn't get past its larger siblings to suckle. He just sat on a stool and kept reading his book until Mr. Romano startled him.

"Hey, Brandon, right? Met you yesterday I think. Thought you were interested in learning to fix things."

"Oh, yeah, just doesn't seem like much room so I just thought I'd sit out this time and let others do their thing."

"Come on up front, you wouldn't have stopped by if you didn't wanna get your hands dirty. Come work on a project with me, I got a feelin' you'll be able to help me figure out a problem I'm working on for a friend."

The walked up to the desk and a very old skateboard sat with the trucks up in the air.

"Guy says the wheels don't roll right, I haven't looked at it yet too close yet. Tell me what you think."

Brandon looked at the wheels, gave them a spin and noticed one on each truck- front right, rear left- were abnormally loosely spinning.

"Well, this seems strange. Not much for skateboards but these two wheels go way faster than the others."

A student came up to the front, "Mr. uh, Peanut. This new wheel we're trying to put on isn't going on straight, can you take a look at it?"

"Sure, be right over. There's a socket wrench over on the wall there, find the right size and take the wheels off, see if you can figure out what's up with them."

Brandon found the socket set and quickly found the right sized head. The wheels looked the same on the outsides, but on the inside of the two fast spinners he noticed small metal balls on the insides but none on the other two in the groove they should've been. He found some similar wheels on the parts table that looked like the two faster wheels, including the small balls in the groove. He put them back on the metal bars of the skateboard with the other wheels from before and found they all worked almost equally well, but with a bit of squeak to the new wheels. He took those two back off, grabbed an oil can from the tool cabinet, and lubed up the wheels before refitting everything. It all seemed to be working smoothly when Peanut came back over.

"Bent screw on the trucks, just enough to stop the bolt going on. Shame to lose a whole part over a bit of bad cut work, but what can you do. Looks like you got that figured out pretty quick. What did it?"

"These little balls in the metal inside of the wheel." He showed his teacher the old parts.

"Would you look at that. No wonder, freakin' wheels didn't even have no bearings in em. Jimmy'll get a good laugh at that."

"Jimmy? Is that the Jimmy Kowalski I heard about?"

"No, Jimmy Hopkins. Cop here in town. Used to go here, your dorm's even named after him. Actually, Kowalski's boy was named after him too. Jimmy and Petey go way back. Big Jimmy did a lot of good at this school, you'd be lucky to be half as good a guy as him, but looks like you already picked up his tool skills. If you're as good at your other classes as you are at mechanics and you'll do great here. I got my eye on you, got a feeling you have some real potential. Don't waste it being shy. Don't wanna keep your nose TOO clean, amiright?"

"Um, I guess?"

The rest of the class was surprisingly spent with Peanut having Brandon take a look at problems the other students had. He couldn't solve most of them, but he had a few clever ideas. People around seemed to respond well to the help. When club let out, a few kids he recognized from playing games last night invited him back to the library to pick up a few games before curfew. His name got around decently, people seemed to take a liking to him.

He headed for bed with the rest of the group and felt like despite what went wrong earlier, it had been a day well worth going through.


	6. Chapter 1: Good Honor

Brandon waited around a bit longer the next morning, hoping to avoid the problem kids in the bathroom from the day before. All went smoothly and the first class of the day was Gym. Going to the rear building, he recognized the teacher from the foam fighting team he'd seen the first day on campus. He got changed into his gym uniform and gathered with the rest of class.

It figured. The boy he'd gotten in the scuffle with yesterday morning was in class.

"Good morning everyone. For all the new blood, I'm Coach Devaryn- PE Teacher, Foam fighting, Track, and weightlifting coach. We're starting off the school year with my specialty."

He opened up a closet on the wall of the gym and pulled out dozens of the padded sticks Brandon had seen before.

"New kids, come get some gear. Team members, you'll be teaching the fresh meat. Don't forget, the better you teach them, the better they protect YOUR behind later.

Brandon wasn't sure whether or not he was surprised- the bully he was trying to avoid had chosen him as his training partner.

"Oh come on dude, why me? What, you wanna whip on me where I'm not allowed to deck you?"

The older boy snapped back at Brandon, "No, I wanna see what you're made of."

"What's it look like I'm made of? Pudding?"

"You wanted to go yesterday, so lets go. Stick on stick. No headshots in this game. Hit in the arm, drop whats in it, put it behind the back. Lose a leg, drop to that knee. 2 limbs, dead. Anywhere in the torso dead. Simple. Show me what you've got."

Brandon picked up one of the sword shaped foam covered sticks and started to swing, but it didn't come anywhere near his partner.

"Come on, you wanted to hit me yesterday. Now's your chance. Not even being a dick about it right now, with this game if you're not gonna hit with your swing, don't even bother swinging. And put something behind it. Not saying throw your arm out, but put some stank on it."

Brandon swung again. He expected some kind of trick, but it struck the older boy in the elbow.

"Not bad. Little harder but better than lots on their first try. I'm gonna actually fight now. Remember, no heads. And no, I'm not gonna cheap shot you, I actually take this seriously."

The two exchanged swings. The older boy was clearly much more skilled, and easily blocked most of Brandon's swings, but Brandon surprised both of them with an instinctual defense making it harder for the more practiced of the two to land any hits of his own. After a few rounds of losses, Brandon started to get comfortable in swings, and saw pattern in how the other boy swang. He tried to emulate the motions and was surprised with positive comments from the partner who had been such a jerk just the day before. As he started getting the hang of the weapon in his hands, the coach called everyone over.

"We're gonna get one actual game in before the bell hits. We call this one the Gladiator Ring. You and your partner will only have your single swords. Stick with your partner and try to be the last team standing. If either of you go down, your team is out.

"Alright kid, don't blow this for me, I have a reputation to hold up. Not saying we'll win but I don't want to go down too quick. You watch my back and I'll take care of the rest."

The coach blew the whistle and the teams began to move around each other. Most of the veterans were figuratively and literally dragging their partners behind them. Brandon watched how the veterans moved, more like a gallop than normal walking or running. They always kept their fronts to all other players. Brandon tried to emulate but still found himself being pulled by his partner the direction he wanted to go. The older boy eliminated two teams by shifting to the side of the inexperienced player and getting a sharp tag on their torso while Brandon stuck to blocking other weapons with his own. Soon it was down to three teams- his and two others. They circled a bit, none giving up too much distance. The other two teams had partners hiding behind their Team member, but Brandon and his partner stayed side by side. They moved quickly to the left, Brandon intercepted the strike of the opposing veteran player, and his own partner made contact with the person he had blocked. But the opponent's new player managed to swing and get the older boy in the chest. Brandon expected the other boy to blame him, but just shook the hand of the person who hit him and congratulated them on a good shot.

"Simul! Looks like the odd team out wins, but good first time everyone. We don't play too often here in class, but we like to give everyone a try to break the ice and try something you won't get at most schools. Anyone who thinks this is something they wanna do more often, we practice friday and sunday evenings down at the field if there's nothing else going on, over in the yard of Harrington House if there is a game. Anyone is welcome to join, and if you think you want to make the school's competition team, you're welcome to try out this Friday."

The bell rang dismissing them and Brandon caught his partner before they hit the locker room.

"Ok, what's your deal. You were a dick yesterday and now you're not. Are you bipolar or something?"

"Piss off little dude. Let me get something straight. I have a reputation when I fight- we call it good honor. I teach, I take my hits, and I encourage people to keep trying. Anywhere else, stay out of my way, don't talk to me, don't act like we're some kind of friends. You're not bad, you should try out for the team. When we're there, we're cool. When we're not, you're just another bump in the road and I'll run you over if you get in my way. Got it?"

"Whatever, I guess we're on the same page. You don't get in my way, I don't get in yours."

The two changed at the lockers they had chosen which happened to be far from each other. Brandon had some time before his next class, he caught the coach's attention in the Gym as he was making marks on a clipboard.

"Hey Coach Devaryn, that guy I was with. What's his name?"

"Dan Casic, team calls him Surg."

"He said I should try out for the team."

"I agree, you seem to have some good defensive instinct, though your offense could use some work. Seem like something you want to get involved in casually or competitively?"

"Really neither, I wouldn't say I want to get involved, but if someone on the team says I should try out I at least figured I'd give it another try. I saw it the other day and there was a lot more to it than just these one handed sticks."

"Yup, polearms, shields, archery, some people get good at 1 style, some people, like Dan, seem to want to be great at everything. He wouldn't be a bad person to get in the good graces of if you want to be a player- school team or not."

"I'm not so sure he wants me in his good graces. We had, well let's say a disagreement yesterday and we've both made it pretty clear we're not looking to make friends."

"Whatever works for you, but if you think you'd like the game, you're entirely welcome to come out to our practices, we'll have spare gear, you can learn to make your own, or you can buy gear if you have the funds."

"I'll consider it sir, I need to get off to class."

"What's next for you?"

"Art."

"Not bad, class hasn't been the same since Mrs. Galloway retired. If you're as good at drawing as you are at stick blocking you'll do alright here at Bullworth."


	7. Chapter 1: The Cliques

Brandon left the gym and noticed the older boy, Dan, taking a right at the fountain towards Harrington house. As he walked past, he saw the other well dressed students warmly welcome him. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but one boy started to laugh at something only to receive a stern comment from Dan which ended the laughter. He just kept walking, 'keep your nose clean Brandon' he thought to himself. On the way into the building, he noticed one of the older students who had been in the Mechanic's club and had gone to the gaming in the library the past two nights.

"Hey, Brandon right? I'm Paul, I recognized you from the past two nights. You're new here, right?"

"Yeah, parents sent me here after I got kicked out of my last school."

"That's a shame. But hey, you're here now, figured I'd let you know, most of us you saw last night usually meet Wednesday nights in the class building. They let us use the library these past two nights so teachers could get ready for classes, but they don't want it too loud in there the rest of the year."

"Oh, cool. Thanks for the info. I'll probably stop around." Brandon shook his hand and turned to head for class.

"Where are you headed?"

"Art, upstairs."

"Really? Me too. New teacher last year. I preferred Mrs. Galloway but she retired after her husband died earlier 2 years ago. This new lady is pretty good but a little too edgy for me. One of those punky starving artist types. Kinda hot for an older lady."

They started to climb the inside stairs to the second floor when Dr. Kowalski caught Brandon's attention.

"Mr. Grinder, mind if we talk a minute?"

"Sure, go on ahead Paul, I'll catch up."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing I'm aware of."

"Nothing Mr. Grinder, go on ahead Mr. Ardison, I won't keep him long."

"So what's up, Doc?"

"Cartoon references, funny, never hear that one," the headmaster said with obvious but positive sarcasm. "I was just wondering if you'd heard anything about that locker incident yesterday."

"Nothing I can think of."

"Well, if you do, I'd like to know about it. If it's some kind of prank to harass you somehow I'd like to get it sorted out. We don't need our student body going back to my own school days."

"I'll keep my ears open and my nose clean, sir."

"That's what I like to hear. Have a good day."

"You too." Brandon left the office and got into class just before the bell rung. He sat next to Paul who had saved him a seat. It was several minutes before the teacher came into class. She showed no signs of hurry, and no apology for her tardiness.

"Blah blah welcome to art class blah blah I'm your teacher, Zoe, blah blah new students. We don't have any of our supplies in yet, so if you have paper and something to draw with, draw me something. Keep it appropriate so Petey doesn't get up in my craw like last year. I have my own stuff to work on up here, so try not to need me."

The students awkwardly got out notebooks and pencils. A few students had large art pads and boxes full of black sticks, they took easels from the sides of the room and got straight to work drawing. Brandon just took out his book from English and drew the cover art in his notebook. From the front he heard a buzzing sound and saw his teacher with what looked like a tattoo needle and a big chunk of leather on her desk. Curiosity kills the cat so he minded his own business and chatted with Paul while he introduced him to some people he knew in the class.

Things weren't too different here than they were at other schools. Normally you had sort of cliques- rich kids, popular kids, criminal types, jocks, music program. Mostly Paul pointed out members from their gaming group, but he mentioned that while they had similar cliques as any school, people were a lot more willing to cross over lines. Paul mentioned 5 general groups that the campus had, some students stuck pretty exclusively to one group, but most really crossed the line where their interests lied:

The Jocks- athletes, plain and simple. Often found at the gym and the sports field

The Gamers- people who often preferred their time spent indoors playing tabletop or video games, or playing organized outdoor games. Commonly found all over campus when doing outdoor games, or in the class building

The Starbound- musicians, artists, and theater kids, usually found in the Auditorium or Art room of the class building

The Gears- members of the Mechanics club, known to do repair or computer work. Commonly hanging out in the various garages.

The In Crowd- well off kids who declared themselves the most popular despite having the smallest and most exclusive clique- ironically making them the least well liked and widely unpopular. They usually hung out inside Harrington House.

Paul himself stuck to the Gamers as a figurehead of sorts as one of the upperclassmen, but more casually hung out with the Gears- mostly sticking to Mechanics club rather than being heavily involved with the others.

Brandon guessed he was mostly a Gamer for now, but he knew he had potential to hang out with the Gears with how impressed Peanut was with his work the other night. The Jocks weren't really his thing, but if he decided to get involved in the foam fighting team he might just get some association.

"I hear things used to be really bad way back in the day, no crossover and I hear it was more like gang warfare than kids just hanging out. I like to think we're a bit more civil than that, but some of the groups can get a little possessive of members the more involved they get. Better to kind of choose your primary group and just do some casual stuff so people don't get like that."

"I guess I can get that. I don't think I have to worry about the Stars or those preppy kids. They don't really seem like my kind of crowd."

"I mean, don't cold shoulder them or anything. Friends are always good to have at Bullworth. If there's anything that stayed around from Jimmy's days, it's that people are usually pretty civil towards each other. Just keep your-."

"Yeah, yeah, keep my nose clean, I've heard it a million times already and it hasn't been a week since I got here."

"Really as long as you stick to the old man's philosophy on that, you should have a pretty good year. I don't know why people think this place is going downhill, but if anything it's because people are starting problems they don't need to start with people they just should avoid if they don't like them"

"Speaking of people to avoid, do you know Dan Casey?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah, he's a great guy, he's a senior like me. Comes around games club sometimes when he's not busy. He's that kind of guy who has his fingers in everything, top grades. Only turned down Head Boy because he didn't have time for the responsibility. I take it you've gotten to meet him already."

"Not sure I'd use the words 'great guy'. Got my first introduction with him pantsing some guy in our dorm."

"Are you sure? That doesn't seem like the type of thing he would do to someone."

"Oh it was definitely him. I just had gym with him-"

"Hey, pipe it down, I can barely hear myself buzz up here. If you're done with your drawings just throw them on a desk somewhere and go be annoying somewhere else." Zoey snapped at the class.

Half the class got up and left. Paul got up to leave too, but Brandon decided to stay.

"Walk with me, talk with me." Paul gestured towards the door.

"Nah, I'm actually kind of digging this drawing I'm working on. Don't think she'll even look at it, but I can at least be proud of something."

"Whatever suits you, man. I'll probably be in the computer lab downstairs for a while if you want to hang out." He headed out the door. Only the more serious students and Brandon were left in the classroom.


	8. Chapter 1: Tete a tete

He finished his drawing a bit before the bell. He snapped a photo of his drawing with his phone, it wasn't bad by any means for pencil on notebook paper. Rather than heading out, he decided to check out the work of the more hardcore artists.

He took a good look at a big drawing made of all shades and thicknesses of one orange-brown color. It was a portrait of Dan, there was no denying it, and she had a photo next to the easel she was copying from.

"That's really good, did you learn to do that in this class?"

The girl was startled a bit, not noticing anyone had come up. "OH! Oh hey, no, I went to an arts school before I came here, learned it all there. Thanks, though."

"Why'd you come here if you were already at another private school."

"Cost. Bullworth is a lot cheaper, so once I got my skills down my parents didn't see any need to keep shelling out the extra when I could get a more rounded education here. It's really not bad, I've been here a few years. It's not the same but there are worse places I could've gone. I'm April by the way." She stuck out a very dirty hand, covered in the material she'd been drawing with, giggled when she noticed, and extended her cleaner hand.

"Brandon. I'm new here. Friend of mine mentioned a group called the Starbound. You hang out with them I take it?"

She laughed a bit, "I guess I kind of lead them. As soon as I mentioned art school it's like everyone saw me as their Messiah. So they just hand me featured spots in our art shows, solos with our singing group, and leads in our shows. Kind of stressful really, I just want to enjoy myself, not be the star all the time. I'm really not even the best at this school at anything."

"Well you're definitely not bad, at least at drawing, way better than what I did."

"Ok, now I kind of want to see it. It's either really bad or really good and you're being modest."

"Yeah, sure, just let me grab it out of the pile." Brandon turned to go grab it but was surprised to see his teacher holding it at her desk.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Can I have that back a minute. I want to show it to that girl over there."

"What? Oh sure. Hey, why did you draw this?" She handed it back to him.

"I had my book for English with me, seemed like something easy enough to draw. Is there a problem?"

"No, just a coincidence." She picked up the leather she'd been tattooing. It had the same picture, and she had a copy of their book on her desk next to her.

"That's kind of weird, why are you tattooing it onto that?"

"Your teacher, Russell, is an old friend of mine, we go way back. I started learning to tattoo and he said he wanted me to do this cover art for him, I guess it's his favorite book or something. So I want to be sure I can do it good before I put it on him."

"That's pretty cool. Any chance we'll get to learn to do that in class?" That would definitely make this the coolest class.

Zoey laughed, "There is no way the parents would ever let the kids touch a tattoo gun. Even if they did, it would be wicked expensive, way outside of budget."

"That sucks, that would be so cool to learn."

"Know what? I know some people. I'll make some calls and try to get Petey on board. I know some of his weak spots. You're right, it would be really great to see everyone learn this. Thanks for the idea. Now if you don't mind, I want to get this done before-"

The bell ending class rang.

"Before that. Oh well, I got places to be. Thanks again, kid."

"Brandon."

"Whatever. If you're lucky I might remember you by the time you graduate."

She packed up her equipment and left the room, April had walked over to see the drawing.

"What was that about?"

"I think there's a chance we'll be learning to tattoo this year."

"Huh, that's...new. Maybe there will be something new to learn from this school after all. Hey that drawing isn't bad. Kind of simple, just lines really, but once you learn how to shade and use negative space I think you might be pretty good."

"Thanks, um, gotta ask. Why that Casey kid? Are you two dating?"

"Not really. We went out once last year but he didn't call or message or anything this summer so I don't think so. But maybe this will bring him around."

"Whatever does it for you, April." He started to walk away but paused. "Know what? I might regret this, but what about me? Date this weekend? You've been here a while so how about you show me around town."

"Show you around town, sure. Date, we'll see. Nothing against you, I just don't want Dan to think I'm off the market."

"Sure thing. I guess I'll see you when we have class again in a few days." Brandon waved as he headed out of class and April went to clean up her supplies.

"Yeah, see you around." She waved back with her dirty drawing hand.


	9. Chapter 1: In the Ring

Tuesday night meant the Boxing club he had signed up for. He hadn't thought to find out where it was held, so he checked the bulletin board downstairs. It said there would be a bus leaving for the gym in Old Bullworth Vale after classes, so he ran out to the front of the school and saw people gathering at the gates.

Mostly kids he didn't recognize, but a few that Paul had pointed out in art class. He introduced himself and decided to stick with them. He noticed that Casic was sitting on a bench with headphones, a book, and a notebook he seemed to be writing in while reading. He didn't pay the older boy any more mind, but he just seemed to pop up everywhere he went.

When they got to the gym, everyone filed in the door and a short guy with shaved red hair was in the ring boxing with a much taller blonde opponent. When he noticed the kids, they bumped gloves, said their goodbyes, and exited the ropes.

The taller blonde introduced himself while the other left the building. "Welcome to the Harrington Family Boxing Club, I'm the club head, Derby Harrington. Those of you who are returning, we already have your waivers on file. You can change if you brought gear and hit the bags, weights, and ring. First timer's come over here and we'll get you introduced to the building."

Most of the students went to the locker room or straight to their activities. Brandon and two other students were the only first timer's. He recognized the kid from the bathroom his first day of classes as one of them.

Mr. Harrington ran upstairs and returned quickly with some packets of papers. "These are our club's liability waivers. We'll need you to fill out whatever you can, then we'll mail the rest to your parents to get their approval. Until then all we can allow you to do is watch the practice matches and learn technique- no weights, no gloves, no ring, no bags. Even if they choose not to sign, we'll still allow you to come learn hands off technique and to observe. I need to make a round quickly to make sure everyone is using their gear right after the summer off. Feel free to look around, I know first timers are usually drawn to the trophies and banners we have around.

"Hey, you're that kid from the bathroom the other day, right? I'm-"

"Don't talk to me."

"Woah, what's the problem dude? I'm just trying to-"

"Yeah I know exactly what you're trying to do. Things are bad enough, I don't need things getting worse. Just leave me alone." He turned to watch the boxers getting in the ring.

Brandon grabbed the boy's shoulder, "What are you talking about, I just want to-"

The other boy turned around and punched Brandon in the jaw, flooring him more from surprise than force.

Dan and the other boy in the ring jumped out and stepped between the two newer boys. "Hey, spazz, what's your deal? This is boxing- no fighting outside the ring." Dan got in the boy's face and pushed him back.

The other boy helped Brandon off the ground as Derby came back over. "You, out. We don't tolerate that kind of behavior in this gym."

"Fine, I don't need you guys anyway. My big brother can teach me how to fight better than any of you." The kid left the gym almost at a run.

"Are you alright kid? What was that about? All I saw was him turn around and sucker punch you."

"I heard it, Mr. Harrington. All Brandon did was try to introduce himself. That kid has been a problem since he came to this school, we really don't need him here with his behavior problems." Dan stuck up for Brandon to his surprise.

"Alright, well there doesn't seem to be any damage, you just might feel it a while. For now, I'm going to teach you your basic stances, how to move on your feet, and some basic swings."

Dan and his partner got back in the ring, and Derby spent about an hour teaching Brandon and one other new boy. After the lesson as people prepared to leave, Brandon walked over to Dan.

"Hey, thanks for standing up for me. I thought you didn't like me."

"I don't. Honestly, it's not even anything personal. I just really don't like that dork. He does that with everyone, you try to be nice and he acts like you're attacking him. Just avoid him when you see him. He tends to get kicked out of most clubs in the first day for stuff like that. The sooner he gets kicked out the better I think, he's like a time bomb. I'd feel bad for him if he wasn't such a dick."

"Dude, first day I met you-you barged into the bathroom, humiliated him in front of everyone, and me while we're at it."

"Hey, you humiliated yourself. And that guy is a walking humiliation, if it wasn't me it would be someone else or he'd do it himself. But it it gets you out of my face, I guess I shouldn't have done that. Even if he is a constant thorn in my side, I shouldn't be a dick to him. I don't want it getting around that I'm like that."

"Why don't you like me, is it cause I stood up to you that morning?"

"A little bit, yeah, but like I said, nothing personal, I really generally don't like people. I work with people, I teach people, but I don't really do the 'friends' thing." He turned his back, put on his headphones, and opened his book. Brandon considered getting his attention again but that hadn't gone so well an hour ago.

They waited for the bus back, just a short trip across the bridge. Left with a few hours before he planned to go to bed, no homework but to keep reading, he decided to get started on that. It was still warm out, being late summer, so he found a seat under a lamp and dove into his book until it came time to call it a night.

The evening was peaceful, despite definitely feeling the punch from earlier. No one bothered him and he made significant progress in his book. He headed for bed expecting tomorrow to be pretty good- Shop with Mr. Romano and a free period for the afternoon, practically a half day.


End file.
